Saved
by Dragon03
Summary: Drama and romance is in store for Jaime at a drug rehabilitaing teen hospital.
1. Part 1

Jaime Waite clamped his hands onto the seat cover as he slumped down into the chair, and outstretched his legs into the center of the tight circle. Nervously, he leaned forward and brought in his legs, resting his chin on the surface of his knuckles and glaring down at the blue carpet. He felt the eyes of the entire circle piercing into him, but he wouldn't let them know of his vulnerability and un-comfort, he'd play it real cool.  
  
"Ok," initiated the older female counselor who sat in a chair at the opposite end of Jaime. "We have a new member, who I'm sure you've all noticed." Jaime rose from his brooding slump and gazed up at the strangers, all about sixteen to eighteen. Jaime was seventeen. "Would you like to introduce yourself?" She asked, a smile sliding across her face.  
  
"Hi," He waved at them sarcastically and a mischievous smile slid across his face. "My name is Jaime…" he over-annunciated the consonants and spoke very slowly, provoking a few giggles here and there across the ring.  
  
"Hi Jaime…" the teens replied. And once again, he mockingly waved back.  
  
"Welcome," the counselor continued, "we are glad to have you here…" her voice drifted off and then she began to speak again. "Does anybody have a topic they'd like to discuss?" Jaime almost laughed but somehow managed to keep his anxiousness inside him and stay still. No one answered, but she didn't seem surprised or disappointed. "Why don't we go around the room and say one good thing and one bad thing about your life today?" The teenagers didn't seem surprised or disappointed either. But Jaime was – how could he pull off staying cool now? What would he say? How would he say it? Would he be honest? Would he simply "pass"? Would he lose it right there and then in front of a bunch of self-help freaks? Maybe he'd just relax and listen… be natural? What was natural? How could anybody be natural in such an unnatural setting?  
  
The first speaker was quiet, but not shy. She wore her dark hair up in a messy ponytail and her clothes were lose and careless. She had a subtle beauty that hid behind the strands of hair in her face and baggy clothes, but Jaime saw it instantly.  
  
"My name is June…" She started and then hesitated… "Well, I guess…" she started again, looking down at the ground in deep thought. "I'm happy to be here and I feel like things are getting better for me…" she faded away for a second and then said, "But it's still hard – you know – to be happy without what you're used to making you happy… I guess, because you have to face things that you've tried so hard to avoid-" she rambled, but didn't seem nervous, just contemplative. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and grinned as the next person introduced himself. But Jaime didn't look at him, only at June. She glanced up at him and he turned his gaze to the boy next to her. But he could see her eyes in the corner of his, stealing glances at him every once in a while as the different teens told the group deep things and trivial things, but all things that were good or bad. And finally it was Jaime's turn. He felt the hair on his neck and arms stand up and he grasped the arms of his chair in order to feel stable and strong – in order to feel something besides the embarrassment that engulfed him. His breath quickened and he felt cold all over.  
  
"I'm Jamie," he mumbled. After a few seconds, "Well, the bad thing is – it appears that your not allowed to drink or smoke or shoot up here… and doing that is the only good thing in my life…" he said sarcastically. He looked around the room and all of the tension left him. At the end of his statement he looked up at June and she acknowledged him with the lift of her eyebrow and an apologetic smirk. "The good thing is – well, I guess there isn't anything good right now…" he explained bitterly. "Can I pass on that part?" The mediator nodded her head.  
  
"Do you want to talk about why drinking or smoking or shooting up was the only good thing in your life?" She asked kindly, her voice soft and laid back – the stereotypical shrink/counselor voice that Jaime was so familiar with.  
  
"Not really," he answered, overly polite. And then the next person continued the flow of discussion and Jaime was relieved to be over and done with the whole ordeal – God, did he want a cigarette! After everybody went around the circle there was more pouring out of emotions and some people cried and others just listened very tentatively, of course Jaime didn't remember the subject matter or the stories – only June's reactions to them.  
  
They closed by holding hands and listening to a prayer that the female counselor raddled off. Jaime watched the group as they shut their eyes and bowed during the prayer, all except June. And after the circle broke, he rushed over to her.  
  
"June…" he whispered, "pretty name…" she blushed and told him that they would only see each other during group and that guys and girls are separated so he better watch out. "So this is goodbye?" he whimpered.  
  
"Yeah, I guess…."  
  
"You know-" he blurted out, as she started to walk away, "I lied when I said there wasn't anything good about being here…" She stopped and smiled at him again and then walked off towards a hallway, following the rest of the girls. "I guess I'll see you at group then!" She didn't look back at him this time, but he knew that she heard him.  
  
  
  
It was day 4. He had survived two days of detox and a day of group therapy and today he made sure to grab a seat next to June during the new group session. She acted nonchalant about the whole thing and they didn't speak, for when they sat down the counselor had already opened up the meeting.  
  
"Today, what I want to know – what is a relationship in your life – it could be a relationship with a girlfriend/boyfriend, friend, family member – anything – that you would like to change…" she inquired, "we'll open with a moment of silence and you can consider that… and then we'll go around the room, okay?" June and Jaime where right next to the counselor and Jaime prayed she wouldn't start in his direction. But of course, she did. June started.  
  
"A relationship I would change…" she sighed, "there are so many!" she giggled to herself, a little sadly, "ah- I guess the one I'd want to change the most is the one with my mom." There was a moment of silence.  
  
"Why is that?" The counselor said, encouraging elaboration.  
  
"She doesn't understand me and I don't understand her… you know? We're always on different agendas and we have troubled finding common ground… she hates my dad and it's like she wants me to hate him too… but I don't, and that drives a huge wedge between us. And anyway, I wish things could be different between us, that's all."  
  
"Have you brought this up with her?"  
  
"So many times…" she groaned, "but she just doesn't listen. I guess I don't listen to her very much either though."  
  
"That's very good," the counselor commended, "noticing our parts is the first step in building a better life for ourselves and those around us. Because otherwise, we only look at the problem, rather than the solution. When we better ourselves, we can look at others with a different perception and approach… okay, Jaime? What about you?" He didn't say anything and bit his lip.  
  
"Frankly – I don't think it's any of your business," he explained. She nodded her head and took a deep breath before replying.  
  
"I understand…" she began.  
  
"Good," he interrupted.  
  
"However, I want you to understand that no one passes judgment here and no information leaves this circle – nothing at all…. And Jaime?" He looked up at her. "It's always nice to have baggage that weighs down on us lifted from our shoulders and that's what group is for." She smiled again and then the flow of discussion, once again, like always, continued. But this time he listened – intently. And the stories were so much like his experiences – it was the first time he had seen anyone who he could relate to besides his drug addict friends back at home – the friends who got him arrested and then abandoned him when he joined the EMT squad. It was painful to listen to some of the stories because they were so real to him, but he felt as though he wasn't the only one who had suffered or was suffering and he was reluctantly comforted  
  
  
  
The days passed. He got to know fellow boys and gradually his bed time, free time, dinner time, volunteer work, group time, became routine – but he still stayed quiet. However, he started to loosen up and grew less and less fearful of being open. It was time, because the cravings of drugs and alcohol grew and grew. He wanted to feel good and shut out the painful memories and he was about to bust – it was time.  
  
Day 6 of group. He sat next to June as usual. He felt like he knew her because of all that she had shared and almost felt responsible to share just as much. "Today," the counselor said, as she did everyday, "I have a topic that I really want you to think about very hard. What resentments towards people, circumstances, whatever you can think of, have you held inside you for a long time now? I want to let go of some of that resentment today – or at least try." Let go of resentment? Is that even possible? Jaime doubted the anger he bundled up inside could ever be released. He had developed it every damn day of his life. June always sat next to the counselor, so Jaime was always the second to speak – June, the first.  
  
"I hold resentment towards both my parents…" she stated boldly, "because sometimes I feel like they only care about themselves and not me at all…" her voice was weak and shaky, but confident. She held her hand up to her mouth and then brushed away the tears that emerged along the rims of her eyes. Jaime clasped his hand over her free one and she bowed her head down. "That's it…" she whispered. The counselor patted her shoulder and then gestured for Jaime to speak.  
  
He sighed and than started. "I hold resentment towards myself…" he stuttered, innocent and shy, almost fearful of being hit for openly expressing self-pity.  
  
"Would you like to share with us why?" She asked.  
  
There was a long minute of silence as Jaime gathered the courage to share.  
  
"When I was eight, my brother was six…" Jaime stuttered, embracing himself with his arms and glaring down at his feet. "My mother – she was a bad junkie/alcoholic, I mean she loved us – or she did before… my step dad – he messed her up. I mean, she was already messed up to begin with – but he messed her up real bad and one afternoon, I think it was during the summer – no, it couldn't have been, because the water was cold – well, she drove me and my brother out to this lake by our house…" he told the story thoroughly and slowly and the entire group listened intently, "she said she was gonna take us to our grandparents – we'd always go there when my step dad… you know… but, that's not where he went." Jaime hesitated, "she drove off into the lake… and I tried to get me and my brother out – God I tried, but I couldn't save him… or her… my step dad… he took custody, he kinda went crazy after that… uh- he used to…" Jaime buried his face in his hands. What happened? How could he have spilled all of that out and why was he letting himself break down? "He used to… I can't… I don't wanna remember… please don't make me…" he pleaded. He started to sob uncontrollably.  
  
"Of course we won't make you…" the counselor assured, rushing over to comfort him. "It wasn't your fault Jaime," she repeatedly said as she rocked him.  
  
"Why can't anyone love me then?" He cried.  
  
"Did your stepfather abuse you, Jaime?" He started to sob harder. "Listen to me-" she yelled, grabbing a hold of his shoulders and forcing him to look at her. "It's not your fault – your stepfather is sick. It's not you. You're mother was sick. It's not you."  
  
"He used to tell me because I took away his wife that he'd have to… to please himself… with m-…" 


	2. Part 2

He couldn't continue, and he broke down. The counselor rubbed his back, her concerned eyes about to tear up as well. "I'm sorry… I've never acted this way before," his voice was muffled and almost incoherent.  
  
"That's what we're here for Jaime, to heal… and you just took a big step." She clasped her warm hands over his. "Would you like to take a walk with me?" She asked. Then, without an answer she arose and towered over his peers. "June?" She asked, turning to her.  
  
"Yes?" Her lips shook, for she too was about to cry.  
  
"Can you mediate? We only have about 10 minutes left." June nodded her head understandably. "C'mon Jaime…" she whispered and the two exited the circle and walked off out of the room.  
  
"Where are we going?" He muttered as he trudged beside her, his head lowered.  
  
"Well, I just wondered if I could ask you a few questions?" She sighed. The two came to a halt and she gestured for him to settle next to her on an indoor type bench in the hallway. Jaime didn't agree, but he didn't disagree either. "Are you with your stepfather now, Jaime?"  
  
"No…" he sighed bitterly, "my grandmother took custody of me a year ago… I thought what we said in there was private any way?" Jaime departed from his vulnerable state and became extra defensive, feeling betrayed.  
  
"Yes…" she affirmed, "but when I fear for the well-being of a child I must get involved, or else I'm aiding in the danger towards them."  
  
"You know," he mumbled, "I can take care of myself just fine – I've been doing it my whole life."  
  
"I know you can," she said, "but sometimes its okay to ask for help. And that's what I'm here for, help. Jaime?" She started again, "I will always be here for you – even when you leave. You can count on me."  
  
"Are we done?" He inquired, rising from the cold, leather seat. "Look – I appreciate it and all – but that was a one time thing in there, I'm not gonna become weak like the rest of them. I can handle it." With that, he walked off down the hallway.  
  
It was the middle of the night – Jaime felt humiliated and broken – as though an embarrassing and painful scar had been ripped open. How could he face the others after what had happened? How had it happened, after all? He gripped his flat pillow and tried to bury his rambling thoughts in a deep sleep, moving around to become comfortable and trying not to awake his roommate. Then, he heard the door creak open and he watched light slowly flow into he dark room. An obscure female figure stood in the door way and then edged toward his bed. He sat up to see who it was – June. He suddenly felt nauseous and sick, for he had imagined their next confrontation with great anticipation and fear.  
  
"What are you doing here???" he whispered.  
  
"Shhh…" she demanded, walking backwards to shut the door and then kneeling down onto the bed. Jaime sat up next to her and they only stared at each other for a while.  
  
"How'd you find me?" he muttered.  
  
"I have my ways," she answered, batting her long eyelashes and revealing her big white teeth as she softly giggled. "I just had to see you…" She looked down at his tank shirt and caressed it with her fingers. As she started to dig into his skin with her fingers and force him down and he stiffened and resisted.  
  
"I barely know you…" he said, raising his faint voice.  
  
"But you like me, don't you?" she replied, still pushing herself over him.  
  
"Well, yes…" he agreed, "but this is not you – why are you being so aggressive all of the sudden?" She backed away and her eyes watered up with hurt.  
  
"I thought we had a connection…" she explained. Jaime hesitated.  
  
"We do…" he sighed, and she ran her hand up his neck and onto his jaw, and then they brought their lips together and kissed until Jaime broke it and pulled away. "We can't do this, June…" he insisted, "you know that." She solemnly pulled herself off of him and clasped her hands together, glaring at the dark, blank wall.  
  
She mumbled something incoherently, disappointment and surprise mounted upon her fair face. He didn't know what to say, but even more so – he couldn't understand why she had thrown herself on him – was it something he had done?  
  
"I should go…" she said, rising from the bed. "I just thought there was something special between us… but I guess there isn't." Jaime's roommate began to stir, and for a moment the two watched the neighboring bed for a few seconds in suspense.  
  
"Don't you understand?" Jaime whispered, "It's not that… please stay." He pleaded, and at that she paused in thought and then sat at the foot of his bed, and this time Jaime edged toward her. Both couldn't find any words, but it wasn't awkward – it was comforting. "You don't look at me differently after yesterday, do you?" he asked shyly, expecting a disheartening reply.  
  
"Why would I?" she sincerely asked. "You mean in a bad way? Do I see you in a bad way? No…" Jaime sighed with relief. "Do you wanna talk about it?"  
  
"God no…" Jaime retorted quickly. He laughed bitterly, "I'm not sure why I talked about it at all yesterday – it's not like me."  
  
"Its good to talk…" June begged.  
  
"So, they've gotten to you?" Jaime felt a bit let down.  
  
"No… it's just, I mean part of why I started drugs is because I let my demons eat me up inside… I kept on trying to find happiness and forget all the bad stuff… but it never worked, you should know that." She justified. "Why are you so afraid of telling people? You know, they wouldn't judge you… I won't judge you." He words were quiet and subtle. Jaime was at a loss for words again and he felt the pain again, like in group, and it hurt – more than ever, all of the terrible memories, all of the guilt… why did everyone insist on making his wound bleed? Why would that make things better? He felt so open and frightened – like his dark world was closing in on me and he couldn't stand it.  
  
"Please don't do this to me…" he said, "I've tried so hard to get rid of these memories and feelings, I don't want them anymore…" his voice quivered, and he brought his trembling hands up to his mouth. She drew her arm around his shaking body. "It just hurts so much…" he stuttered.  
  
"I know…" she sympathized.  
  
"I'm so scared…" he continued. "God, sometimes I just want to die…" He turned frustrated and angry, as though agonizing screams filled his head. He grabbed his short hair and leaned over, trying to resist breaking down again.  
  
"Why would you want to die?" June asked, "I wouldn't want you to die… please don't every think of that…" her words were shaky and frightened. The quiet roommate was very aware of the conversation but he laid still. "You can get through this… please talk to me…"  
  
"I just feel so lost sometimes… so empty…" he whimpered.  
  
"You need love, Jaime…" she said, "I can give you love." She leaned her warm body closer into him, trying to calm his shuddering body.  
  
"I can't be loved…" he replied sternly. "Don't you see?" Silence. "He used to tell me that I couldn't be happy because I killed them… and I shouldn't… I don't deserve to be loved… I don't deserve to be alive!" June couldn't speak for a long time. But then, she managed to find the strength.  
  
"Jaime…" she cried, "you didn't kill them… its not your fault, you tried to save them… you can't listen to your step-father…" Silence. "What did he do to you?" The question was rhetorical, for she knew he was blinded to his father's evil. "Don't you see? You're the victim… but you can survive… I can help you." His body was aching and tired and he let himself surrender and collapse onto her lap, leaning his head into her warm shirt and surrounding his arms around her body. And she embraced him back.  
  
"It's okay…" she assured. "You're going to be alright…" His cry was quiet and fading as she rocked him. "I'm so sorry…" she muttered underneath her breath, a tear rolling down her flushed cheek.  
  
The night had almost passed. Jaime woke up from a deep slumber to see June lying next to him and an adult female counselor hovering over them. June opened her lazy eyes along with him and the two stared up at the counselor in intense shock.  
  
"You know the rules around here very clearly Mr. Waite and Mrs. Fleming, it looks like this will be your last engagement."  
  
"We didn't do anything!" June protested. "It's not what you think!"  
  
"It doesn't matter what I think," the counselor responded abruptly, "now up and out the door you to. Better enjoy this walk, it will be last time you two are together." Jaime gulped hard, and June grabbed his hand as they followed the counselor. 


End file.
